If We Knew
by theycallmethejackal
Summary: Josh, Donna, and the key.
1. I Didn't Know

A/N: The first two chapters are in first person. The third and fourth are in third person. That was the best way I felt to tell this story.

* * *

I didn't always know I loved her.

If you ask Sam or CJ, they'll tell you I have been in love with her since she hired herself as my assistant on the first Bartlet for America campaign. In fact, they probably thought I hired her because she was young and attractive, and they could see my relationship with Mandy ending before I could.

If you ask Danny, he'll probably tell you I knew the moment I figured out she hadn't leaked that damn quote to the media. He'll tell you that throwing snowballs at her window so that she'd come down and go to a party with me just screams "grand gesture".

If you ask Leo, he'll probably tell you that I realized it when I watched that video of the SUV in Gaza. He'll tell you about how I spent an hour on the phone trying to find out if she was alive. He'll tell you that even after I found out she was alive and the doctors said she would be okay I couldn't focus on work. And then he'll tell you that I didn't even bother resisting when he told me to go be with her.

I've always written it off as a crush brought on by how much time we spend together. She's my best friend. Even when she was working for Russell and we weren't speaking much, if you'd asked me who my best friend was or for an emergency contact, I would have told you Donnatella Moss.

I'm not blind. I've always seen how beautiful she is. Granted, I'm not the best when it comes to taking in a woman's appearance. It's a point of pride with me that I notice a woman's mind before her body. And with Donna, I was always attracted to both. So forgive me if I was a little more focused on why the hell she would take the fall for Jack Reece than how amazing she looked that night.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that contrary to popular belief, I did not pine after her for eight years. I didn't date Amy because I knew I couldn't have the woman I really wanted. I dated Amy because I was really attracted to her. I didn't sabotage Donna's dates because I couldn't bear to see her with anyone else; I did it because _as her friend_ , I knew that none of those gomers were good enough for her. Not Cliff Calley, not Jack Reece, and _definitely_ not Dr. Freeride. I didn't write that note in _The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing_ because I loved her. I did it because I knew it would make her happy to know how much I valued her as both an assistant and my friend.

I didn't know.

I didn't know when I gave her my Bartlet for America lanyard. I didn't know when she hugged me that Christmas I refused to get her skis. I didn't know when she took care of me after Rosslyn. I didn't know when I was throwing snowballs at her window or sleeping in a chair by her bedside or when she quit her job in the middle of the bullpen.

I didn't even know it this morning when I kissed her.

But now it has hit me like a freight train as I look at her from my seat. I wasn't quick enough. I should have picked that key up as soon as she offered it to me. But I didn't know it even then, thirty seconds ago, when she made no attempt to conceal her intentions.

Because now, as she looks back at me with shock in her eyes, I know. I know as I swallow thickly and try to ignore the burning of tears in the backs of my eyes. I know that I am unabashedly, irrevocably, completely in love with her.

And I think I've just missed my shot.


	2. It Crept Up On Me

It crept up on me over the course of eight years.

When I first met him, I was so focused on trying to prove myself –– making him see that I could be useful –– that I didn't really look at him. He was an obstacle then, the only thing that stood between me and a job I desperately wanted. So imagine my surprise when a week later he walked into the hotel lobby in South Carolina and my first thought was, "Wow, he's really cute!"

I left so soon after that moment that I couldn't develop a genuine crush on him. I went back to my boyfriend and forgot all about him and how cute I found him when he was rumpled after falling asleep at his desk or so excited about the new polling numbers that he couldn't contain himself. And then, after I broke it off with Freeride for good, I came back. And he treated me like I'd never left –– like I'd always been his assistant and I'd just come back from vacation.

 _Thank god. There's a pile of stuff on the desk._

He'd given me no grief. We just went back to what we'd been before I left. I kept track of his schedule, answered his phone, and didn't bring him coffee. And somewhere between telling him Congressman Harris was on line two and coming back from Starbucks with coffee for myself and not him, I discovered I had developed a bit of a crush on Josh Lyman. I found myself caring a bit more about what I looked like every day even though I knew he wouldn't notice. He's never been concerned with anyone's appearance except the candidate's. But on the off chance he did notice, I made sure I looked perfect. I considered bringing him coffee one morning but thought better of it. I wanted him to notice _me_ , not my feelings. Especially since he was still dating Mandy Hampton.

Once we were in the White House, I started to get a grip. I knew that nothing could happen between us because of the scandal it would cause. I wasn't going to put him in a position to have to battle any sexual harassment rumors. So I started dating. Sam made a comment about it once. I just told him that now that we were done on the campaign trail and I'd moved on from my ex, I was ready to date again (I dodged a few campaign flings by saying that I wasn't yet over him).

I realized I hadn't actually managed to kick my crush after Rosslyn. I took care of him all summer and pretended I was doing it because I was his assistant, but the truth was that part of me enjoyed playing house with Josh. Occasionally I would spend the night at his apartment, and waking up to him was something I could definitely see myself getting used to, but I didn't admit that my feelings weren't going to go away until much later.

It was just after President Bartlet was reelected that I figured out I was never going to _not_ be attracted to Josh. I mean, what kind of guy shows up to throw snowballs at your window so he can whisk you off to a ball? If he'd felt the same way about me, I would say it was romantic…

It wasn't until Germany that I realized I'd fallen in love with him. When I woke up and the first thing I saw was Josh looking disheveled and unshaven and _perfect_ , I knew that was the sight I wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of my life. I wanted this man who had flown across the Atlantic Ocean to be with me.

Leaving him was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I had a plan. I was going to make him take me to lunch and I was going to tell him all the reasons I was leaving. Because as much as I wish it had just been about the job, it wasn't. It was about the fact that I couldn't leave my job without leaving _him_. I knew he would take it personally. I would be another in the long line of people who had left him or been taken from him. But he just kept cancelling and I knew that if I didn't just get it over with, I would never be able to leave him.

It wasn't until this morning that I ever entertained the idea that he could feel the same way about me. Or that he could feel _anything_ for me. I spent most of the day trying to tell myself that it was just an inevitable thing that happened. I even told him that it was bound to happen at some point.

But he keeps looking at me like he did this morning after the first kiss. Like he's really seeing me for the first time. So I finally mustered up my courage and slid my room key to him across the table when no one else was paying attention. I made my intentions very clear. I want him. I want him to come up to my room so we can do what it felt like we would have done this morning if we hadn't been interrupted.

And now Ronna is pressing the little envelope containing my key into my hand. I look back and he's still sitting there at the table, just looking at me. He's shrouded by darkness and I can't quite see his expression, but I do know he's looking at me. But he doesn't have my key. I was wrong. So I turn away and head for the elevator, trying to hide my disappointment in Ronna's presence.

I'm in love with Joshua Lyman, but he will never love me back.


	3. No More Waiting

She doesn't check the peephole before opening the door. It's not like she wouldn't have opened the door if she had seen it was him, but at least she would have had a brief moment to prepare herself. As it stands, she's not equipped to deal with Josh standing in the hallway.

It had taken all of his courage to knock on her door. He figured she would be mad at him for rejecting her (which he maintains he did not do despite appearances), but he can't just let her walk away. Not now that he knows how he feels. His initial plan was to come up to her room and lay it all out for her, but as he looks at her, makeup washed away and her button-up and pencil skirt traded for a tank top and pajama shorts, all he can manage to supply is a very lame, "Hi."

"Hi."

"Can I…?" He nods past her and she complies after a short moment, opening the door further so he can come inside. He takes in the sight of her room. She's not messy like he is. Donna's always had a knack for organization. Without her, he wouldn't have been able to function in the White House, something he became highly aware of when she left to work for Russell.

She closes the door and moves further into the room, her arms folded across her stomach as she looks at Josh. He hasn't said anything of value yet, and that unnerves her. He's usually quick with his words. "Josh?"

"Yeah?" He asks as though he's surprised by her presence.

"You're in my room."

"Yeah," he replies a little breathlessly. He's been in bedrooms with Donna countless times, but he's never been in her room after she propositioned him. There's a long silence that Donna finds unbearable, but she's not about to break it. He came to her after rejecting her. He called their kiss inappropriate. He has to be the one to start whatever conversation they're about to have. "I'm not good at this," he admits.

"I'll say," she drawls.

" _Donna_." The way he says her name has her shutting her mouth and nodding. He's trying to tell her something, and he needs her to not get quippy with him. "In the whole time you've known me, how many girlfriends have I had?" He asks her.

"Two," she replies easily. It's not hard to keep track of that much.

"I'm a monomaniacal workaholic," Josh admits. "I'm not good at putting aside my professional life –– "

"Josh, if this is your way of letting me down easy –– "

"No, no, no, no, no," he insists quickly, taking a few steps forward, arms extended to stop her. "What I'm saying is that if we're going to do this," he says, gently gripping her shoulders with his hands, "I want to do it right. You are too important to me to just be a campaign fling," he explains, finding her eyes intently.

Donna can't help the little grin spreading to her lips. "So you didn't pick up the key because you didn't want to rush into things?" She asks, her hands sliding up to grip the opening of his sport coat.

"Actually I didn't pick up the key because Ronna was quicker. If she hadn't swooped in, I might have just had my way with you tonight," he explains, lifting his hand to brush his thumb across her cheek tenderly. "But I'm glad she did. I want to wait for the right moment."

"I'm tired of waiting for the right moment, Josh," Donna retorts, tugging him a bit closer. "I'm tired of waiting," she repeats huskily, tilting her head and capturing his lips with hers. Instinctively he cups her neck and kisses her back.

He never wants to stop kissing her. Her lips fit so perfectly with his, and when her tongue slips past them, gently tasting him, he can't help but pull her closer. She makes his mind go fuzzy, and for a moment he forgets what he came here for. "Donna," he murmurs, pulling away from her. She tries to follow, but he holds her still by her shoulders. "I want to do this right," he repeats. "I want to…woo you."

"Woo me?" She repeats, quirking a brow.

"…yeah," he replies, confused by his own statement. He may have gotten a 760 on his verbal SAT, but he doesn't use words like _woo_ in everyday conversation.

"Josh," she tells him insistently, "I've already been _thoroughly_ wooed by you. You wooed me with books on skiing and by throwing snowballs at my window and flying to _Germany_." Lifting her hands, she cups his jaw. "You've been wooing me for eight years…you've won me over time and time again. It's time to cash in…"

This time when she kisses him, he doesn't stop it.


	4. Side by Side

They lie side by side. Neither of them is a cuddler, something that surprises each of them about the other. He expected a nice midwestern girl like Donna to be incredibly affectionate post-coitus. As for Donna, she knows how tactile Josh is. It surprises her that he doesn't try to hold her close after sex.

Instead, his fingers are running up and down her side beneath the sheets. They brush her skin down to her hip before dancing back up to her shoulder over and over again, each pass never the same as the one before.

He's a generous lover, she's learned. And now she knows for certain that his ego is well deserved. She's also fairly positive that if she tried to stand right now, her legs would feel like spaghetti. As it is, she's perfectly happy to lie next to Joshua and not worry about moving for the next few hours.

Taking his hand, she gently pulls it away from its trek up her skin so she can kiss his fingers. In doing so, she catches a glimpse of the time on his wrist. "Your watch sucks," she teases with a smirk.

"My watch does not suck," he retorts, his voice gravelly.

"It was nearly one when you got here, and your watch says it's 12:43," she counters.

Furrowing his brow, he looks at the watch and shrugs. "Ah, well. Guess I can blame it on being late to the meeting tomorrow," he jokes, lowering his arm, his fingers finding her now tousled hair.

"You'd never."

"Nah, I wouldn't. Not that the idea of staying in bed with you for the next twenty-four hours isn't insanely tempting, but we do have a Democrat to get elected."

"If you weren't a workaholic, you wouldn't be you," she points out with a smile.

"That is very true."

They fall into companionable silence for a long while before closing their eyes. Donna scoots a bit closer to him, draping her arm across his waist and causing Josh to smile as his arm moves to rest over hers, his thumb gently stroking her shoulder.

"Josh," she murmurs, not wanting to wake him if he's already fallen asleep. She knows how hard he's been working and how little sleep he's getting. She doesn't want to disrupt him.

"Yeah?"

"I know you were concerned with doing this right, but I have to say this feels pretty perfect," Donna whispers, tilting her head to kiss his shoulder.

"Definitely," he agrees, kissing the top of her head before she pulls back to look at him.

"I love you, Josh," she whispers.

He grins widely. "I love you, too, Donnatella," he responds, pulling her closer so he can kiss her deeply again.

Maybe cuddling isn't so bad after all…


End file.
